Bewitched
by Jayne Dough
Summary: She used to hate her, but now she's bewitched. Original Title of Phlegm Season
1. Chapter 1

Phlegm Season.

"I wouldn't go down there" Ginny said quietly, idly reading a magazine on her bed at the Burrow.

"Why?" Hermione questioned innocently, yawning in her pyjamas from the doorway.

"There's a lot of, erm, phlegm about" she grinned. Hermione merely sighed, she did dislike the girl, but she had been nothing but pleasant to her since she arrived at the Burrow for christmas. She padded downstairs lightly, careful not to disturb anybody still up. Sure enough, as Ginny warned there was Fleur, sat on her own at the kitchen table in the dimming light of the fire, and the sparkling lights on the christmas tree.

Hermione just breezed past effortlessly into the kitchen, and put the kettle on. She sat on the counter swinging her legs and was suddenly aware of a pair of cool crystal eyes baring into her, though she didn't oblige and turn to meet her gaze. The kettle whistled and she removed it from the stove-top almost immediately, as she swung off the counter she snatched a quick glimpse of the french beauty. Fleur was looking at whatever she was looking at before on the table, she had averted her eyes playfully the second Hermione looked over.

Feeling guilty from the lack of conversation, Hermione made an extra cup of tea, she pondered if she had Fleur's tea-preference in her head, and she remembered, black, with honey and lemon. She made it to perfection and settled it silently next to Fleur. She turned to walk away, but she was stopped by a husky, unmistakeable and delicious voice.

"Wait!" Fleur called out, a little bit louder than is curteous in the early hours, realising the error she lowered her tones considerably and said quietly. "Sit, 'ere" she was indicating to a seat at the dining room table adjascent to her own.

Hermione stopped, seemingly contemplative of whether to stay in the room and talk or leave and sit in silence doing an essay while Ginny occasionally flicked a page loudly or tutted. She decided the prior would probably seem agreeable right now, and perched on a chair opposite Fleur.

The awkward silence seemed to last for quite a while, Hermione was almost sure she saw single tear roll down the elder's porcelain face.

"Are you alright?" Hermione muttered.

"Do you know?" she whispered. "'ow many times anyone has asked me that this week?" she said intensely piercing Hermione's eyes with her own clear blue ones, hiding behind a whispy fringe.

"I don't know? A lot?" Hermione offered, casually waving an arm around.

"None. No-one 'as asked me 'ow I feel. Not even Bill" she said with a distinct air of crystalline meloncholy.

"Oh" was all Hermione could manage, it wasn't sympathetic, but it wasn't callous, merely surprised and awkward.

"You all do not like me. Yes?" she added. There was something so fragile in her words that made Hermione shiver. What was she meant to say? All the awful things they had said about her, the nicknames, the jokes they played on her, the rude gestures. She was purely guilty and had nothing to say for herself.

"I am sorry, that was, er, 'ow you say, awkward?" she raised her voice an octave in pitch, out of inerrogation and nerve, Hermione sipped her tea and laughed.

"Yes, very." Hermione said wryly.

"I don't know what I 'ave done!" she declared, another glass tear rolled down her perfect skin and glistened in the glow of the christmas tree. Hermione's guilt stabbed her full force again. She was seeing first hand the grief that she had caused this fragile little thing. Hermione inwardly chastised herself for being so stupid. It was not like a woman, living with three other women wouldn't notice the malice. That she couldn't hear the overly-loud comments spat when Fleur wasn't looking. That she wouldn't notice any number of dirty looks.

"Fleur, I won't lie. No, I don't like you. I don't know why, and I hate it, I haven't even given you a chance. Are you happy now? Congratulations on making me feel awkward. I'm going to bed now. Goodnight" and Hermione turned on her heel and ran to Ginny's room.

"Was Phlegm as annoying as ever?" Ginny blurted out. Hermione smiled dryly in response, she was starting to feel sympathy for her, and she knew it.

Hermione slept until the late afternoon the next day, no one had woken her, not even Ginny. She woke up slowly, surveyed the sun on her eye-lids, and smiled, she padded downstairs only to find no-one there. She quickly checked Mrs Weasley's clock, Ginny, Ron and the Twins were playing quidditch in the orchard, and she presumed Harry would be with them. Percy, Charlie, Bill and Arthur were all at work, and Mrs Weasley was doing the gardening. Thinking she was alone she picked up the morning paper and flipped through it idly. Sipping another cup of tea.

"What is eet about me that you 'ate the most?" A french voice startled Hermione to the point of her almost dropping her tea-cup.

"I don't hate you" Hermione said, trying to look cool, but looking more like a deer caught in the headlights. "I didn't think anyone was in" she said quietly.

"Just us" Fleur offered, seemingly to no one in particular. "Do you want to come for a walk down the lane at zee front?" she said, her blue eyes crystalised with hope. Hermione couldn't bare to turn her down. After all, what did she have to lose?

"Ok, sure" she nodded smiled and stood up.

"Really? I was certain you would say no!" she smiled and lingered on Hermione's eyes longer than needed.

"Come on then" Hermione smiled.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised that she could hold quite a good conversation with Fleur, somewhat effortlessly. They had similar taste in books, and Fleur was quite intelligent. Hermione had always had her pegged as sub-par intellectually, but when she thought about it, she must have been gifted to be in the tri-wizard tournament. They halted near a tree to get some air, they had been chatting so long they barely realised how far they'd walked. The Burrow now just a faded speck. Hermione sat on a rock and huddled her coat around her.

"Chilly isn't it?" Hermione said quietly, the conversation awkward, and it sinking in that Hermione was having quite a pleasant time with Phlegm.

"'ere, 'ave some of this" she throatily whispered, offering Hermione a hipflask. She took a brief swig before contorting her face into a soured grimace. Fleur laughed. "Eet is obviously the first time you are having the firewhiskey" she giggled again.

"It's illegal in this country, I'm not old enough" Hermione said, sticking out her tongue as if to airate the taste off it, and passing the bottle back to Fleur in her gloved hand. Fleur was sat dangerously close to her now.

"Hermione, I feel like I need to tell you something. I don't know who else to tell." She said gravely.

"I promise not to tell" Hermione said, and was surprised to find out she was being truthful.

"Eet is me and Bill." She said quietly as a look of concern spread across Hermione's features. "We 'ave split up. But I am not sure 'ow to say anything, and we 'ave both agreed to keep it quiet for some time" she said.

"How come?" Hermione merely asked, quietly.

"The love has just gone. We care about eachother a lot, but 'e said 'e has feelings for another woman, and I do not feel the same. Eet is the war you know? It is making us all sad" she concluded. Hermione nodded, and before she could stop her self she was consoling Fleur.

"If you need to talk, I'm only in the next room" It was half a pity statement, but as the words came out of her mouth Hermione was surprised she meant them.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the next few days things returned to normal between Fleur and Hermione. Fleur was seemingly on top form with her criticism this week, mortally offending Hermione about her lack of passion with cooking, after she had made a more than agreeable pasta for eight Weasley's, a Potter and one less than grateful Franc. Fleur had criticised Hermione's hair, which though cruel, Hermione couldn't help but notice and had started straightening her hair more. Fleur criticised the Weasley women, for their questionable taste in christmas paraphrenalia, and although they were both outraged, Hermione did bite back a giggle, and was almost sure that Fleur saw. It wasn't until a week later, when Hermione had sufficiently built stores of fresh disdain for Fleur, that they encountered eachother again. It was a snowy afternoon and everyone else was busy, wrapping presents, playing exploding snap, or cooking or cleaning. Hermione had finished everything she had to do in record time and slipped on her coat intent on catching some fresh air. She hadn't noticed a steady blizzard that had been blowing since the night before, until just before she was stepping out. It was around about eight or nine and the snow had calmed but it had still settled, she left a note saying she'd gone for some air, and opened the door, to be slammed into by a certain blonde woman.

"Sorry" Hermione distinctly muttered, giving a slight sneer to the older girl. She was revelling in the delight that Fleur actually looked awkard and embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I should be watching where I am going" she said in a throaty whisper that made Hermione twinge in her stomach.

"Yes you should" said Hermione, and turning to walk down the garden path. She heard the voice call "Wait" and she shivered, but ignored it, then she felt a slender, gentle arm grab hers and time stood still for a moment. She glared at the blonde.

"Please, wait. I want to talk to you" Fleur pleaded.

"Is this about Bill?" Hermione said, no hint of any emotion in her voice.

"no" she said, slightly out of breath and her hair out of place from running.

"Then I really don't care" Hermione said knowing she was being bitter, but not really caring.

"Why! Why do you 'ate me?" Fleur said, her voice cracking with tears and trying to keep up with Hermione's fast pace. Hermione paused for a moment, stopped and then carried on even faster than before. Marching and shouting at Fleur.

"I hate the way you have to criticise every tiny thing. I really don't think you're so perfect. I hate the way all the boys just worship you, I hate the way you never have anything nice to say, I hate the fact that you think you're better than everyone else, I…" she halted. Fleur was visibly sobbing now. "Why do you even care?" Hermione said, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"I do not mean to be critical, I just want to be honest" she sighed.

"Fleur, you can be honest without saying awful things." Hermione just said bluntly. Then she paused and caught the twinkle in Fleur's eye and an overwhelming sense of warmth filled her, she sighed gently. "Fleur?" she asked simply. Fleur nodded quietly. "What do you think of me? Honestly, truthfully, all the bad parts included." The mood had shifted now, they both felt it, they both stood in the dark, their breath clouding in front of them, stood so close.

"There are no bad things." She smiled. "I honestly think that you are brave, and intelligent and I think you are beautiful" Hermione wrinkled up her face in disbelief. "Do not disagree 'ermione as I think that one is zee most truthful." She paused. "You are funny, you are friendly – even to me sometimes! You make me smile, and you make me feel fuzzy here." She said, jabbing a mitten somewhere into her stomach. "You make me want to do this" she said quietly, holding her hands to Hermione's waist and kissing her deeply. It was slow, it was sensuous and it was amazing. Hermione had never felt anyone kiss like that before, such soft lips, the slow waltz their tongues were dancing, her scent, her taste. The kiss finished quietly and Hermione stared in amazement.

"You can't just do that Fleur" Hermione stated, turning on her heel and walking towards the Burrow.

"Do what?" she called, "I don't understand" running after her again.

"You can't just kiss people like that, you can't just make me feel like that. It's not fair. You're just using me to get what you want." Hermione looked extremely upset, and carried on walking.

"I want you. How can I be using you if I want you" she said innocently.

"don't play games, Fleur" Hermione just said quietly.

"Why do you care?" Fleur stated.

"Because that was the most amazing feeling ever, and I hate that it came from you, and I hate that it won't happen again and I hate that it had to stop." She said, looking baffled that a feeling that was so divine came from Fleur.

"Eet doesn't ever have to stop" Fleur said huskily in Hermione's ear. She kissed a light trail down Hermione's neck, and then kissed her once more, slowly and beautifully on the mouth.

"I can't let you do this" Hermione sighed, taking all her will power to stop the pure ecstacy emitting from the kiss. "I'm only feeling this way because you're bewitching me to, you're half Veela, it must be easy. I don't know what game you're trying to play Fleur, it's not funny." And with a pop she had apparated back to Ginny's room.

"Wait!" she called sadly. "Women, aren't affected by Veela's" she sighed quietly and walked dejectedly through the snow back to The Burrow.


	3. Chapter 3

"What has she done this time?" Ginny offered, a few days after the last incident, when Fleur was obviously trying to catch Hermione's eye, but Hermione was clearly ignoring it.

"Oh the usual, being an attention seeking little slu-"

"HERMIONE!" Molly cautioned, but Hermione just smirked, not looking up from the letter she was writing her mum and dad for Christmas. Something in Fleur's eyes visibly faded.

Hermione couldn't tell anyone the truth, as nobody knew about her and Bill yet. But it felt like Fleur was a little worm that had crawled inside her, and was under every inch of her skin, but no matter what she did she couldn't get her out.

The christmas festivities continued and Arthur suggested they all play a muggle board game, he quickly put anti-cheating charms on the dice (Glaring at Fred and George) and everybody sat down. Hermione was last to get over to the area by the fire, and reluctantly had to share a seat with Fleur. Hermione sat down and arranged herself. Nearly an hour into the game (Monopoly, which the wizarding families were having trouble grasping) just after Ron tried to move one of his hotels instead of one of his pieces, Hermione's t-shirt rose slightly on her back, creating a perfect inch of exposed flesh. Fleur spotted it out of the corner of her eye, and slowly, making sure no one was watching, carressed her finger over the flesh lightly. Hermione's eyes closed in ecstacy, and she gave a light shudder. Fleur smiled seductively, and Hermione was trying incredibly hard to try and stop her self showing any immediate signs of arousal. She thought about moving Fleur's hand away, but then she realised that it was the most pleasurable she had ever felt, nobody had ever touched her like that. It made her skin tingle, her body shudder, it felt as though she was getting tiny exhilarating shocks whenever Fleur changed the course of the lazy pattern she was sailing around her back. Fleur sneakily traced the finger round her back to the side of Hermione's hips and slipped her finger lightly in the cleft between Hermione's hip and inner thigh. Hermione squealed loudly, and everyone stared.

"Ooo, The fire just spat at me, I'll just go and check if it's left a mark" Hermione got up and left. Quickly, Fleur whispered an incantation and set the elbow on her jumper alight.

"Oh no! It won't stop spitting, Ronald maybe you can look at it for me, A big strong man like yourself" she sighed, magically dousing the flame on her arm, as Ron blushed furiously. She got up and followed Hermione immediately. She pinned her to the door in the bathroom and kissed her. It was just as delicate as before, and felt just as good. Hermione moaned as Fleur ran her hands up and down her back. She pushed her thigh between Hermione's legs and she gave a muffled groan. She held Fleur so tightly that she just wanted them to merge into one being, she wanted her skin to melt and them both to become one entity of pure lust, she wanted her so close she could be inside her, in more ways than one.

"Wait, Fleur. Will you just stop this?" Hermione said, inwardly kicking herself for taking away the best sensation she had ever received.

"'ermione. You don't understand. Veela's don't 'ave any effect on women. I really, really like you" she said looking Hermione in the eyes. There was a long pause while Hermione breathed extremely heavily and did nothing but stare with severity into Fleur's eyes.

"I call you Phlegm" Hermione sighed.

"What?" Said Fleur some-what incredulously.

"I am awful to you. I don't like you. You annoy me. I call you Phlegm, but still I have this uncontrolable urge to just…to just…" Hermione's voice was so wrought with passion she couldn't seem to find the words to explain exactly what she wanted to do.

"Sometimes when you like someone. You are nasty on purpose non?" she added in a delicious voice, melting out of her vocal chords and massaging Hermione's ears. Hermione nodded. "You might call me that. You might call me lots of things, but I can see. I can see in 'ere" she whispered gesturing to Hermione's mind and eyes "That you are unfair to me. You 'ave not given me a chance. There is no reason for you to dislike me the way you do, unless…My theory is correct non? And I think that, when you look at me, there is a spark there, for me and no-one else. I know because my spark is for you, and unless I am decieved, I can recognise it. It shines in your eyes." She smiled seductively and met Hermione's eyes once more. She quickly grabbed her hand and pressed it firmly to Hermione's chest.

"You won't fool me like you fool the boys" Hermione stated, aware she was running a losing race, but still sounding resolute. Fleur pressed her hand in further and leaned in so close to Hermione's ears that her lips brushed them gently, sending tingles up Hermione's spine.

"But your 'eart is already quickening for me" she said slowly into her ear, turned around and walked out.

Hermione stood baffled in the bathroom, she had always felt a twinge when she and Fleur's eyes met, but she had never considered it to be anything more than a passing fancy. But Fleur was right, it was reserved just for her, and there must have been some kind of signal in her eyes that let Fleur know that. The seemingly implausible thing was that Fleur could have anyone she wanted, but she seemed to be wanting the only person she couldn't have. Hermione knew now why it all made so much sense, (or not as the way the human mind works) She felt like a wicked boy on the playground who pulled the girls hair just because he wanted her. She had no idea why, but it made sense to her now, and it just seemed logical to want more of that touch.


End file.
